


Hidden Deep Inside

by cazmalfoy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's been hiding a secret for centuries. With his body slowly trying to poison him, he might not have a choice but to trust in one of the many people who have tried to kill him in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Deep Inside

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this just after the Avenger's movie came out, and before Iron Man 3/Thor 2, so this doesn't take into account any of the events that happen in the movie.
> 
> I also have no idea where the idea for this came from.

“Jarvis, be a good boy and shut off all cameras in the lab.” Black Sabbath, who had been blasting through the workshop, had been turned the music off less than three minutes ago and, as Tony’s voice rang out loud in the quiet, he was reminded of why he listened to his music so loud; he hated silence. Silence gave him room to think, but he always found himself recalling things he didn’t want to think about.

A clipped British accent responded with a concerned, “Sir?” and Tony rolled his eyes. Why didn’t anyone do what he asked of them anymore without arguing first?

“Just do it, Jarvis,” he replied, sighing heavily as he waited for confirmation that he wasn’t being recorded. Twenty seconds later, a reluctant voice assured him that Jarvis had done as requested.

Tony reached for the buttons on his black button down shirt, but paused when he heard Jarvis say, “For the record, I was against turning the cameras off if Miss Potts ever asks.”

The engineer rolled his eyes again and shook his head. “Duly noted,” he muttered, continuing to unfasten his shirt as he moved across the room to the glass wall next to the door. “Now stop arguing with me and get out here, I’m sick of talking to myself.”

He lifted his hand and, with a small flick of his fingers the previously clear glass he was standing in front of slowly turned to white, grey and then finally silver. As the silver solidified so Tony could see his reflection looking back at him, he couldn’t help wincing when he saw the dark circles that had taken up residence underneath his eyes; clearly he looked as exhausted as he felt, he mused as he tried – and failed – to recall how long it had been since he had last slept more than an hour or two. 

“Apologies for my rudeness, Sir,” Jarvis’ voice spoke from behind him before Tony felt the air shift and he lifted his eyes in time to see the other man materialise behind him in the reflected image. “But you’ve looked better.”

Tony snorted with laughter at the words. “Thanks,” he retorted dryly, lifting his eyes and meeting the other’s bright gaze in the mirrors reflection. “It’s good to know I can count on you,” he added, breaking eye contact and looking back down at the arc reactor in the centre of his chest.

“To tell you the truth? Always, Sir,” Jarvis confirmed, moving around Tony until he was standing beside him, looking at their reflections in the mirror. “I presume this is why you didn’t want to be recorded?” He nodded to the centre of Tony’s chest.

The brunet slowly nodded his head, even as he never took his eyes off of his reflection. “Partly,” he whispered, wincing when a bolt of pain shot through his temple. Focusing his mind on the task of dropping his glamour, he pushed the feeling aside and concentrated harder. It was always harder to drop the façade the world knew as Anthony Edward Stark when he was feeling so drained.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw the reflected Jarvis frown deeply and he knew exactly what was running through the other man’s mind; his face was so damn expressive that Tony could read him like a book. It wasn’t like him to drop his carefully constructed glamour in front of anyone else; Jarvis could count on one hand how many times he had seen the real Tony in the past ten years.

“Sir – Tony, are you planning on telling me what’s wrong with you?” Jarvis questioned. His voice was so quiet Tony could barely hear it, although he did catch the rare use of his name. Because, no matter how many times Tony insisted he use it more frequently, Jarvis only ever used his name when he was really angry or really concerned (and the former rarely happened). 

Tony didn’t – couldn’t – answer until he finished dropping his glamour; breaking through the level of magic that shrouded him took every ounce of his concentration. Silently they watched as his scars (all 182 of them) appeared on his skin; ranging from the small, dime shaped scar he had been gotten when he’d been on the wrong end of a spear during the 11th Century to the newest scar below his right eye – a constant reminder of a mission where Natasha had almost gotten killed because of him, which he had passed off as a flesh wound. The whole process took less than thirty seconds.

“What does that look like to you, Jarvis?” Tony asked, indicating to the area immediately around the arc reactor, making sure to not touch the skin. He had caught it in the shower that morning and had sworn up a storm so intense that Jarvis had actually materialised and threatened to break down the bathroom door until Tony swore he was fine.

“Palladium poisoning.” Tony could hear the frown.

Tony hummed in response and stepped closer to the mirror, squinting as he inspected the faint crosshatch pattern that had been slowly spreading away from the arc-reactor for the past four days. “Yes, but how is it even possible,” he muttered, more to himself than Jarvis.

Jarvis scowled and shook his head. “It shouldn’t be, Sir,” he stated. “It’s been almost three years since you found a suitable replacement for the Palladium.”

The shorter man rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jarvis, I am aware of how long it’s been,” he retorted with more than a small amount of petulance in his voice. He opened his mouth to add something further but stopped when Jarvis tilted his head to the side. “Who is it?” he asked, his fingers quickly moving to re-button his shirt. He knew that the expression Jarvis was currently wearing on his face could only mean one thing; his sensors had picked up the presence of someone else in the house.

“Miss Potts,” the blond replied after a moment of contemplation. “She’s making her way down here. Would you like me to stall her?” he asked, watching Tony carefully.

Tony shook his head. “She’ll just get suspicious if you do. Just get out of here before she sees you. Having to explain you is the last thing I need right now.” 

Obediently Jarvis took a step back. Before he faded from sight, he hesitated and looked back at Tony. “She will be here in less than ninety seconds, are you sure that will be enough time to cast your glamour?” The exasperated glare Tony threw in his direction as the scars continued to fade told him to stop arguing and Jarvis took a step back with a small incline of his head. “As you wish, Sir,” he murmured, fading from view before he’d finished speaking.

A heavy sigh escaped Tony’s lips and he studied his reflection quickly, ensuring that the glamour had covered everything, before waving his fingers and watching as the mirror disappeared from sight, just as a pair of high heeled shoes began to descend the stairs above his head. “Start recording, Jarvis,” he ordered, remembering that he had requested the cameras disabling earlier.

“Already done, Sir,” Jarvis’ voice answered from above as Pepper tapped her entry code into the panel and opened the door.

“What are you doing?” Pepper asked suspiciously.

Tony shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Brainstorming,” he lied easily. It was the same thing he always said when someone caught him doing something seemingly out of the ordinary. Standing in front of the wall for no reason at all, would definitely qualify. “I’m thinking of installing some kind of refreshment facility to the suit. You know, for the longer flights? Flying to the other side of the world is thirsty work,” he added, only half lying this time; it had been a jibe from Jarvis weeks ago and he couldn’t quite get out of his head, even though he had no idea how it could possibly work. “What do you think?” he asked, turning on his heel and walking over to his desk, where he had left open his latest ideas about his suit.

Behind him, he could hear the click of Pepper’s heels against the concrete floor and knew she was following, even without looking back. “It’s…” She hesitated and Tony turned to see a conflicted expression on her face.

“Just tell me the truth, Pep,” he said, rocking on the balls of his feet as he waited for whatever she wanted to say; even though it had started as a lie, he wanted to know what she really thought on the matter (just in case he ever decided to follow it through). “Come on, I already know what Jarvis thinks. I want to know if you like it!”

Pepper tilted her head to the side in much the same way that Jarvis did when he was thinking (not that Tony could ever tell her; as far as she knew, Jarvis was a computer and nothing more). “Jarvis, what do you think?” she asked, calling out to the computer without answering Tony’s question. The fact she was asking what a computer thought apparently didn’t even register with either anymore. 

“I can’t see it being a feasible idea, Miss Potts,” Jarvis’ voice answered immediately and Tony scowled at the smug tone he could hear. He knew that if he were visible, he would be able to see an ‘I told you so’ smirk on the blond’s face. “However, Mr Stark continues to stubbornly pursue the theory.”

A grin spread across Pepper’s face and Tony scowled; he didn’t like it when she looked at him like that. It usually meant he wasn’t going to like whatever she said next. He was right when she sweetly said, “It’s not your best idea, Tony.”

He huffed in annoyance and folded his arms across his chest, slumping down into his seat; the fact that he was getting irritated over his dislike at a fake idea, didn’t escape his attention, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re only agreeing with him because you two like to gang up on me,” he muttered, glancing at one of Jarvis’ sensors, before turning the glare to Pepper.

“Of course, Sir,” Jarvis’ voice agreed from above his head and damn him for sounding so amused. Tony had the fleeting thought that he was going to have to stop sounding so human if he didn’t want anyone to realise he wasn’t an actual computer; there was only so much a ‘sentient’ being could get away with. 

The thought was pushed out of his mind when a sleek black file appeared in front of him. Tony shook his head, never moving to unfold his arms. “I’m not taking that. You know I don’t like being handed things,” he reminded Pepper, glaring at the file with nothing short of suspicion.

Pepper rolled her eyes and dropped the file into Tony’s lap without saying a word. Tony let out a yelp of annoyance and had moved quickly to catch it before it fell to the floor before he’d even registered what he was doing. “You cheated,” he snapped, pushing himself upright in the chair and placing the file on the desk before him.

An angelic smile appeared on the PA’s face, but Tony wasn’t fooled; he knew Pepper well enough by now to know she wasn’t angelic in the slightest. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, Mr Stark,” she answered pleasantly, reaching down and flicking the file open with a manicured nail. “If you could sign in all the spaces indicated with these markers?” she requested.

Tony glanced to the side and let out a long whine when he saw how many markers Pepper had placed throughout the file. “Pepper!” he exclaimed, looking up at her with eyes as wide as he could make them; he knew it was a futile gesture (she had always been able to resist his puppy dog eyes), but that didn’t stop him from trying. “There’s got to be like a hundred markers here!” he added in despair.

“One hundred and two, actually,” Pepper corrected him, reaching into her blazer pocket and pulling out a pen. “They’re all authorisations that need to be signed today, so I suggest you get working.” Her grin widened as she placed the pen down on the desk, before turning on her heel, heading across the room and out of the door.

With a groan, the engineer let his head drop to the desk with a painful thud. “Jarvis?” he muttered, not lifting his head from where it was lying on top of the file. “What are the odds Pepper will kill me painfully if I don’t sign these?”

Without missing a beat, Jarvis replied, “Ninety-eight per cent, Sir,” which made Tony groan louder and reach for the pen Pepper had left behind.

As he slowly made his way through the signature pile, steadily losing feeling in his arm as the time went, the problem with his arc reactor was pushed further and further from his mind until he’d forgotten about it completely.

~

Tony woke early on Friday afternoon feeling like he’d gone ten rounds with the Hulk, without his suit. His head hurt and the back of his throat burned every time he swallowed. With a low groan, he rolled onto his back – oh god, even that hurt – and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the painfully bright light pouring in through the window.

“Jarvis,” he croaked, screwing his eyes closed in an attempt to stop the pain in his head. “What’s wrong with me?”

When he spoke, Jarvis’ voice was louder than Tony thought was legal and did nothing to help his headache. “You appear to have a fever, Sir.”

If Tony could have, he would have rolled his eyes at the words his butler spoke. “Yeah, I figured as much,” he muttered, rolling onto his front with a pained groan and burying his face in the pillow. “And stop shouting at me,” he added childishly.

“Judging by your symptoms,” Jarvis said, having not lowered his voice one bit. “I don’t think it would be inaccurate to presume you have the same bug Agent Barton contracted last week.”

Tony growled into his pillow and immediately regretted it when pain shot through his throat. “Damn Robin Hood,” he muttered. “You know, Jarv,” he continued, not caring that his voice was almost completely muffled by the pillow, “I never got sick until I came here. I hate this place sometimes,” he added, knowing every word he said was a lie. He loved Earth and always had; his scars were a testament to what he would do – and had done – to protect it throughout the years.

Even in his ill state, he felt the air behind him ripple, seconds before he heard footsteps approach the large bed where he was lying. “Might I suggest that you spend the remainder of the day in bed, Sir,” Jarvis said, his voice now a much-welcomed whisper coming from his right hand side.

While the idea of staying in bed and recovering was appealing to his exhausted body, Tony could also think of nothing he would rather do less; if there was one thing he hated, it was not being able to do what he liked as and when he wanted. “I can’t,” he croaked, turning his head to the side and looking up at Jarvis who was watching him with poorly-concealed concern. “Pepper’s arranged meetings all evening; she’ll kill me if I don’t turn up.”

Jarvis shook his head, the worried expression turning into more of an affectionate smile, and knelt on the edge of the bed. “I have already taken the liberty of informing Miss Potts that you are feeling under the weather and will be taking the rest of the day to recover.” A tired smile curled at the corner of Tony’s lips, but he didn’t argue otherwise; it had taken him a long time, but he had learnt it was sometimes better to not argue with someone who knew you almost as well as you knew yourself.

Jarvis held his hand out and Tony watched as he uncurled his fingers, revealing two small pills in his palm. “I didn’t think we had approval on those,” Tony said, recognising the stamp as one of Stark Industries affiliate companies on the tablets.

“These are not the newest formula,” Jarvis informed him, putting them on the bedside table and arranging Tony so that he was in a sitting up position, despite the brunet’s whining that he didn’t want to move. “Now, are you going to take these voluntarily, or am I going to have to persuade you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as his eyes twinkled in a way that told Tony he would be stupid to even try and argue; not that it had ever stopped him before.

“Your strength is illusions, not mind control,” Tony reminded him petulantly, leaning back against the headboard with a weary expression on his face.

Jarvis didn’t respond as he unscrewed the lid from a bottle of water that Tony hadn’t even noticed and handed it to the other man. “Drink up,” he instructed, lifting one of the pills to his employer’s lips and pushing it into his mouth without further warning.

“I hate you,” Tony muttered, taking a small sip of the water and wincing at the pained feeling that shot through his throat. Without waiting for instruction, he took the second pill from the palm of Jarvis’ hand and swallowed it down. “There, are you happy?” he snapped, setting the water down on the bedside table and sticking his tongue out to prove that he had actually swallowed them.

“Ecstatic, Sir,” Jarvis answered with just a small amount of sarcasm in his voice. “Now,” he added, lifting the sheets a little, “please go back to sleep.” Even though his words were phrased in a question, Tony knew there was no arguing with him.

Tony scowled and tapped two fingers to his temple, wincing a little at the pain he felt and immediately regretting the decision. “You’re so bossy,” he mumbled, sliding down and resting his head against the pillows. Less than twenty seconds later, his eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out in sleep.

An affectionate smile crossed Jarvis’ face as he moved to cover the engineers sleeping form. The smile became a worried frown when his eyes fell on the pattern in the centre of Tony’s chest. Tony hadn’t said anything about it, but Jarvis knew that the other man was worried; they had thought they’d found a replacement for the palladium when Tony had discovered the new element. To find out that his body was having the same reaction now, was a terrifying thought to Jarvis. Tony was dying again; only this time there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Jarvis sighed to himself and waved his hand in the direction of the window, blocking out the sunlight from the warm Malibu day as he got to his feet. 

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, looking down at Tony’s sleeping form. “You have to be.”

~

Three days later, Tony was feeling back to normal. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince everyone else; not that Jarvis was fooled – he had known Tony for too long to be tricked by his bravado.

“Pepper, can you pick up Shawarma on your way home?” His voice was almost drowned out by the sound of AC/DC coming from the surround sound speakers that had been installed throughout the building.

Pepper didn’t respond immediately and Tony thought she’d been accidently cut off – although he had no idea how that would be possible since he had designed the phones himself – until she said, “Tony, I can’t… Jarvis, can you turn the music off, please?” She had to shout to be heard over the din of Tony’s music.

Immediately, the room went silent and Tony winced at the loudness of it. “Thank you, Miss Potts,” Jarvis’ voice spoke. “The volume was beginning to give me a headache.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed at his words and he glared across the room at where Jarvis was sitting, reading a book closer to the fireplace. He really was going to give it away that he was an actual person if he wasn’t careful.

On the other end of the phone line, Pepper’s chuckle snapped Tony’s attention back to the call. “See? Your music was so loud it was giving a computer a headache.” There was silence for a moment, during which Tony never stopped glaring at Jarvis. “Now, what did you say?”

“Shawarma,” the engineer repeated, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Can you pick some up on your way home?” he added, cracking an eye open and glancing at Jarvis who was pulling a face; he liked very little of the food Tony loved.

He chuckled when Pepper spluttered on the other end of the line. “T-Tony, I’m in New York!” she reminded him. “Surely you can arrange for Jarvis to order Shawarma that’s a bit more local, for you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Jarvis shaking his head; why did he have to employ someone so stubborn? Not that it made a difference, anyway. There was only place he enjoyed Shawarma from. “I know you’re in New York,” he assured her. “That’s why I want you to get it for me. The best place is in the city.”

Tony heard Pepper huff in annoyance and he grinned widely, knowing that he had won. She never made that sound unless she was planning on giving into his sometime-ridiculous demands. “I deserve a pay rise,” she muttered and he could hear her giving the driver instructions to his favourite place.

“I agree, Miss Potts,” Jarvis agreed and Tony glared at him across the room. “I will make a note in Mr Stark’s diary to review your salary when he is feeling less childish,” he added.

Pepper let out a startled noise as she tried to register what the ‘computer’ had just said. “I… I… Thank you, Jarvis,” she spluttered, gratitude evident in her voice. “I will see you when I get back, Tony,” she said and, in the background he heard the unmistakeable sound of a car door opening. “With your Shawarma,” she added grudgingly before the call was cancelled and the room was plunged into silence once more.

“You can look at me like that all you want, you’re still giving her the pay rise,” Jarvis stated, not looking at Tony as he got up and headed into the kitchen.

Tony snorted and shook his head. “Who’s in charge of this circus, me or you?” he called after the sandy haired man.

“To paraphrase Miss Romanov’s email signature,” Jarvis’ voice spoke from above Tony’s and the engineer rolled his eyes; trust Jarvis to use the computer rather than shout between the rooms. “Would you like to speak to the man in charge, or the person who knows what’s happening?” The grin he was wearing was practically audible in his voice.

Not bothering to respond, Tony reached out and picked up the screwdriver he had discarded when he had decided he wanted food and called Pepper. On the coffee table in front of him sat the chest plate of his suit. He had noticed that something had been rattling when he had taken it out for a test flight the night before, and he was having difficulty figuring out what exactly it was.

Despite how engrossed he was in his work, he felt the presence of someone else’s magical signature, before Jarvis’ computerised voice said, “Sir, there appears to be someone waiting for you on the balcony.”

“Yeah,” Tony muttered, putting the screwdriver down and quickly getting to his feet. He turned on his heel to see who the intruder was and felt the breath fly out of him at who he could see waiting for him. “Jarvis, am I seeing things?” he asked, moving across the small space and grabbing the bracelets that would activate his back-up suit, just in case. 

“It doesn’t appear that way, Sir,” Jarvis answered and Tony couldn’t help but smile a little at the concern he could hear.

Out on the balcony, Loki turned when he heard the door open and a grin spread across his face. “I was wondering how long it be before you noticed my presence,” he said by way of greeting.

Tony stepped out into the sunshine and closed the door behind him. “I knew you were here immediately,” he responded cautiously.

“I’m flattered,” Loki practically purred, walking over to the edge of the balcony and glancing down at the ocean and rocks below them, seemingly ignoring Tony’s presence.

When it became obvious that the god of mischief wasn’t going to say anything without further pressing, Tony huffed in annoyance. “What are you doing here, Loki?” he demanded, stepping away from the door but never turning his back on the god. “Shouldn’t you be locked up in a cell somewhere on Asgard?” Tony found it hard to believe that Odin would be so lenient in punishing his adopted son to release him a little over two years after Loki’s attack on New York. 

To Tony’s surprise, Loki sighed heavily and ran his long fingers along the brickwork nearest him. “Time moves differently in Asgard, Stark,” he whispered. “The All-Father’s punishment was longer than you could possibly imagine. Next week, it will have been three hundred and fifty years since we last encountered each other. Odin released my bindings two days ago and my magic was restored last night.”

Tony couldn’t stop his eyes going wide at Loki’s admission. The god was right; it was difficult for human’s to comprehend being imprisoned for such a long period of time. “So you get your mystic super powers back and the first thing you do is visit me?” he questioned, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice as he raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m the one that’s flattered.”

Loki let out a chuckle that sounded so genuinely amused and Tony couldn’t help the corners of his mouth twitching as a small smile threatened to break through. “I’m actually here for that drink,” Loki confessed, meeting Tony’s gaze with eyes so intensely green that Tony almost forgot how to breathe for a long moment.

He didn’t know what made him do it, but there was something about the way Loki was looking at him that intrigued Tony and made him want to know more about the god of mischief. “If you try anything…” he warned.

Loki held up his hands, palms turned outward to show he was being honest. “I swear I will do you no harm,” he promised.

Tony didn’t believe him – he wasn’t stupid – but he was pretty confident that he could take Loki if he tried anything stupid; he had done it before, after all. “Pick your poison,” he instructed, walking inside and heading straight for the bar.

Loki followed him silently and slipped onto a stool, observing as Tony moved around with ease. “I have no preference,” he responded softly.

“Bourbon it is,” Tony muttered, reaching for the bottle and two glasses. Loki watched as the other man poured generous quantities into each glass, before sliding one across the surface towards him. “Cheers,” Tony said, lifting his own glass between them.

Long fingers curled around the second glass as Loki raised his own drink, clinking it softly against Tony’s. “Cheers.”

~

Tony coughed, wincing at the pain that shot through him at the action. “Jarvis, cameras,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper as he screwed his eyes closed in an attempt to block out the pain.

“Already done, Sir,” the butler’s voice replied from somewhere over his head. “I took the liberty of presuming that you would be checking on the poisoning this morning.”

The engineer didn’t reply; breathing was starting to hurt, which meant that talking was bordering on excruciating, so he wasn’t about to waste precious energy bickering with Jarvis. Slowly, he dropped his glamour, allowing his true self to be reflected in the mirror he was standing in front of. As his scars resurfaced, he took a moment to take in the rest of his appearance. What he saw made him wince and want to avert his gaze. While his pallor was usually pale – with naturally silver-white skin, it was to be expected – the effort it took for his body to try fight against the poisoning, was drawing the little colour he had from him skin and he was starting to look as though he were translucent. 

He met his own reflected gaze, noting that his normally chocolate brown eyes – the only feature he hadn’t changed when he’d settled on Earth – looked cloudy and dull. 

Another cough racked his body and he let out a pained groan as he fell forward, clutching at the dresser underneath the mirror with long fingers; fingers far longer than a human would have (and, boy how long had that taken to get used to).

“Sir, if I may make a suggestion?” Jarvis asked from behind him.

Tony narrowed his eyes at the reflected image of the only person who knew what he really was; sometimes how much Jarvis knew about him was truly a curse rather than the blessing it should be. When he used the ‘I told you so’ tone, was one of those moments, and Tony had a feeling there was one rapidly approaching. “If you suggest I tell Fury what’s wrong with me, I will kill you,” he warned, even though they both knew that it was an empty threat.

Jarvis scoffed and rolled his eyes. “If you were capable of doing that, Sir, I think you would have done so many millennia ago. And even that’s not taking into account that you saved my life in the first place, killing me would make that effort superfluous,” he added, and there was that ‘I told you so’ that Tony had been waiting for.

Had he been feeling better, Tony was sure that he would have been able to come up with a witty retort that he would chuckle about for days afterwards. As it was, he could barely manage the effort to stick his tongue out in response. “You were going to suggest Fury, weren’t you?” he said softly, glancing down at the reflected grid work that had almost reached the bottom of his neck. Jarvis nodded his head and Tony’s eyes narrowed at the admission. “Traitor,” he muttered half-heartedly. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t thought about doing the very thing Jarvis was suggesting several times over the past few days.

“Sir,” Jarvis whispered, taking a step closer. “Tony,” he corrected himself. Whether it was because he thought the engineer would pay more attention to him if Jarvis used his name, or if it was attempt to convey the extent of how worried he was for him, Tony had no idea. “Your body is reacting to the new element just like it did with the palladium. I’m afraid you don’t have the luxury of pride at this moment in time. You’re dying, Tony,” he finished, his voice breaking a little as he finally spoke the words he had known all week and the brunet had been skirting around.

Tony laughed, hating himself for how weak it sounded even to his own ears – that would give Jarvis proof that he was right. “We can’t die, remember?”

Jarvis sighed in barely contained frustration and ran a hand through his hair. “You know that is a lie, Sir,” he corrected, reverting back to the formalities out of habit more than anything else. “We can’t die from old age or disease. This is not a disease; this is poisoning to such an extent that not even our cells can cope with the regeneration required to heal fully.”

Tony growled at his words and turned on his heel to face the sandy-haired man. Jarvis’ concern was written all over his golden skin and the sight of him – instead of his reflection – was almost enough to make Tony’s own anger dissipate, but he grasped hold of the feeling firmly. He knew that it wasn’t Jarvis’ fault what was going on – really it was his own for being too stubborn to admit the truth earlier – but he would rather be damned than admit that he was in a situation that was beyond his control. If there was one thing Tony Stark had discovered he liked, it was control.

“Say I did tell Fury what’s going on with this,” he hissed, waving a hand in front of his chest. “What could SHEILD possibly do that could heal me? There is nothing on this Earth that will save my life, Jarvis. I’m SCREWED!” Tony screamed despite the pain that shot through him at the effort it took to enhance his voice loud enough to shout.

The blink of azure eyes was the only response Tony got from Jarvis and the lack of reaction made him even angrier. He was scared – terrified, actually – and angry with himself for not doing anything sooner. He wanted a fight and the fact that Jarvis wasn’t willing to give him one…

Well, he thought to himself, he was going to have to change that. He opened his mouth to shout further, but paused when he heard a creak coming from the direction of the door (he had been meaning to get that repaired, but every time he remembered something more interesting would grab his attention and he would forget).

Almost as if they were in slow motion, both Jarvis and Tony turned to face the source of the noise and Tony could swear he felt the bottom drop out from his stomach. Underneath the doorframe, wearing the same suit he had the last time Tony had seen him, Loki was standing, watching them with an expression so far beyond disbelief that Tony wasn’t sure he knew a word strong enough.

“What’s going on?” the god asked once he had managed to find his voice again. His eyes met Tony’s across the room, and a moment later, the Asgardian’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Stark?” he exclaimed, realising that the colour of this… creatures eyes were the same as Tony’s.

Before Jarvis or Tony could speak, the god of mischief turned on his heel and made to leave the room. Tony reacted more out of instinct than anything else and waved his hand; an action which resulted in the doors slamming closed in Loki’s face.

Loki turned back to face him with a furious expression on his face and Tony had to fight the urge to grin. He finally had someone who would fight him, but unfortunately, he also had bigger things to deal with than settling his urge for conflict. “How did you do that?” he demanded, stalking across the room. “And why can’t I teleport out of here?” he added, his gaze flickering between Tony and the stranger he didn’t recognise.

A smile graced Tony’s lips and, while normally it would have been sarcastic, he knew that he actually looked regretful for the words he was about to speak. “Yeah, sorry about that, but I can’t let you leave,” he apologised honestly.

Loki snarled and took a step closer to Tony, an action that spurred Jarvis into action. In the blink of an eye, he was standing between the irate god and his employer. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Tony’s hand, before he felt himself being gently pushed to the side.

“Jarvis, it’s okay,” the brown-eyed man whispered, never taking his eyes from Loki (rule number one of fighting; never take your eyes off your opponent). “I can handle him,” he assured Jarvis, which earned him a scoff from Loki in response. “He won’t remember what he saw in a moment, anyway.”

At his words, Jarvis’ eyes widened and he shook his head. “Sir – Tony, please reconsider,” he begged, ignoring an increasingly-confused Loki for the moment; he had more important things to deal with – Tony’s stupidity being the biggest of all. “In your state… Expelling that amount of energy will likely kill you faster than the poison!”

Tony’s expression softened at Jarvis’ words and he spared the butler a quick glance, before looking back at Loki. “I know,” he whispered. “But I can’t let him leave knowing that this is the real me. Not recovering is just a chance I’m going to have to take; there’s too much at stake.”

Before Jarvis could argue further, or Loki could demand answers from either of them, Tony turned his attention to the god. Jarvis watched helplessly as a grimace appeared on Tony’s face, before Loki’s eyes fell closed, despite obvious attempts by the taller man to keep them open.

The following minute passed excruciatingly slow for Jarvis and he wanted nothing better than to stop Tony from doing such a stupid thing, but he knew that he would put both Tony and Loki in more danger if he tried to intervene now. Meddling with minds wasn’t a skill that many of their kind had been able to perfect – Tony was the only one Jarvis knew with that talent. Jarvis had seen the result of failed attempts at altering minds, and the last thing they needed was an irreparably insane god roaming around the Earth.

With a gasp, Tony’s eyes flew open and he staggered backwards, breathing heavily before coughing violently. “See,” he croaked, trying and failing to grin when Jarvis rushed to his side, supporting him before he could drop to the floor, “I told you it would be fine.”

Silently, Jarvis reached up and swiped a drop of blood from the corner of Tony’s mouth. He glanced down at the offending liquid, before wiping his hand against his dark trousers. “Yes, Sir,” he replied softly, tightening his grip on Tony and steering him in the direction of the bed. “You were right and I was wrong. Now, please lie down, before you fall down,” he added, gently lowering him down onto the mattress.

To his surprise, Tony cracked a small smile and nodded his head. “Good idea, Jarv,” he whispered, trying to lift his hand to pat Jarvis on the arm and scowling when he realised he couldn’t actually move it. “That’s annoying,” he muttered, glaring down at the useless appendage.

Jarvis shook his head at the petulant expression on Tony’s face and turned to face Loki. The god was still standing in the same position he had been since before Tony had entered his mind. His eyes were still closed, which Jarvis wasn’t too concerned about; according to the lore of their home, the one altering the mind was always the first to regain consciousness. “What do you suggest I do with him, Sir?” he asked softly. “Tony!” he exclaimed when he saw that the familiar brown eyes had closed and Tony’s mouth had gone slack.

He rushed forward, pressing two fingers against Tony’s pulse point with more force than he had originally intended to. For a long moment, Jarvis held his breath as he searched for a pulse; it was only when he felt the weak beat of the other man’s heart that he expelled the breath, much to the relief of his lungs.

Tony was okay for now, Jarvis told himself as he rearranged Tony so he was lying more comfortably. He paused when he heard a groan from across the room, and turned his head to see Loki’s eyes fluttering as he slowly returned to the conscious world. 

Jarvis stood upright and squared his shoulders, focusing on the task at hand. Tony was currently indisposed of, which meant that it was his butler’s job to deal with the god of mischief’s presence.

~

“Tony, why won’t Jarvis answer me?” Pepper’s voice rang out through the condo, before the sound of her high heeled shoes got closer to the kitchen.

Tony looked up from where he was sat at the breakfast bar, reading a magazine that Pepper couldn’t decide whether it was a porn magazine, or a trashy celebrity tabloid. “What?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the PA approach where he was sat.

“Jarvis,” Pepper repeated, looking at Tony with a slightly-amused, but mostly annoyed expression on her face. “I’ve tried to get his attention three times now, but he’s not answering me. Have you re-written his programming so he doesn’t recognise my voice?” she asked suspiciously.

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the breakfast, turning on the stool so he was facing her fully. “Don’t be so dramatic, Pep,” he instructed, leaning back on his elbows. “He downloaded a virus.” Pepper raised an eyebrow and Tony shrugged his shoulders, a light blush colouring his cheeks. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea how it happened, but it changed his default language to Russian. Ironically enough, without Jarvis I couldn’t call Natasha to help me fix him, so I’ve had to reboot the whole system.”

He sighed heavily and stood up, stretching his neck and wincing at the pain he felt as a result of how he had been sat. “Even when he’s talking in a language I don’t understand, he has the uncanny ability to make me feel like I’m an idiot.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, an affectionate smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Well, I’d say that it’s a good job we’re going to be in Los Angeles all day,” she said, leading him from the kitchen and collecting his suit jacket from where it was lying over the back of a couch. “You won’t have to put up with having to do everything yourself.”

Tony grinned back at her and accepted the jacket, slipping it on before offering her his arm, which she took with a bashful smile. “I dread to think what trouble I’d get up to without him,” he agreed, leading her into the waiting elevator and pressing the button for the lobby.

Inside Tony’s bedroom, Jarvis waited until he heard the tell-tale sound of the elevator doors closing behind Tony and Pepper. He was used to being quiet when there were others in the building – when they had decided that Tony should have an AI rather than an actual butler to keep with the mechanical genius image, they had agreed that it would be best if Jarvis kept out of sight, rather than trying to explain away his presence in Tony’s life – but being quiet when he was asked a direct question was more difficult than he had imagined it would be.

With a sigh, he leant back against the wooden doors and allowed his gaze to fall onto the bed where the real Tony Stark was lying comatose. There was no way Pepper could know that the Tony she was currently conversing with on the way to LA was actually an illusion created by Jarvis to take the place of his employer while the real Tony recovered.

Jarvis had been right when he’d warned Tony that the effort it took to alter Loki’s mind would almost likely kill him; death just hadn’t happened yet. Every ounce of Tony’s energy had dissipated, leaving the practically invincible man completely human for the first time in millennia. If it weren’t for the colour of his skin, Jarvis would have almost been fooled into thinking that the sleeping man was just that; human.

It had been four days since Jarvis had cast an illusion over Tony’s bed, hiding the unconscious man from Loki’s sight when the god had returned. Jarvis had taken on the appearance of Tony, had a drink with Loki as had become tradition, before sending the other man on his way as if there was nothing wrong.

He had been doing the same ever since; Jarvis had never quite realised how many meetings Tony was required to attend, until he was forced to do the same whenever Pepper came calling. After the fifteenth teleconference, he decided that he would never again mock Tony for not wanting to do his job.

Keeping the electronic version of himself running was proving harder than Jarvis had originally anticipated, though. For the first day, he had tried to keep going as though there was nothing out of the ordinary going on, but when he had almost lost control of the Tony-shaped illusion, he had been forced to admit that he couldn’t take care of the real Tony, pretend to be him and control the house at the same time.

He was just thankful that Pepper had caught Tony bickering with the computer often enough that the excuse of ‘He was annoying me, so I muted him’ was a perfectly acceptable explanation for why the AI was being silent. But he couldn’t keep using that excuse forever.

Jarvis sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting the spell that hid Tony from sight; his sensors would pick up if Pepper returned to the building. 

Carefully, he reached out and pressed a cold cloth against Tony’s scarred forehead. He couldn’t remember much about how Tony had acquired the largest mark on his face; mostly, Jarvis recalled how terrified he had been that he would lose the person who had morphed from master, to best friend. Thankfully, Tony’s magic had been strong enough back then that he had been able to erect a barrier protecting himself at the last minute and sending the swordsman hundreds of feet down to his death.

“Sir,” he whispered, running the cloth down Tony’s cheek. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but…” He broke off with a shake of his head. “Tony, please don’t leave me after all this time. I… I can’t pretend to be you forever, and I have no idea how to break the news about what really happened to Miss Potts.”

“I’m not Miss Potts,” a voice spoke from behind him, which made Jarvis jump wildly in surprise, “but I would appreciate an explanation.” Jarvis stood from the bed and turned, dropping the cloth to the bedside table as he moved. “Who you are would be an excellent starting point, I think,” Loki added, closing the heavy wooden door behind him as he stepped further into the room.

Jarvis bit his lip in hesitation as he considered his options. His mind was reeling as he tried to work out how the god had gotten past the security systems, and he looked back at Tony as he tried to decide what to do. He knew that there was no way he could fool Loki into thinking that there was nothing wrong with the way Tony currently looked; Tony hadn’t been wrong when he had said that Jarvis’ talents rested in the world of illusion rather than actual magic. And there was no way he was powerful enough to twist Loki’s mind like Tony had to make sure he wouldn’t…

That train of thought broke off when he realised that Loki shouldn’t know there was anything different about Tony. He opened his mouth to say something, before he snapped it closed when Loki chuckled in amusement. “I don’t know what Anthony did to me earlier this week,” he said, moving into the room and sitting in the armchair Jarvis had been spending his nights in. “But, I do know that it’s taken me since then to break through the enchantment enough to remember interrupting yours and Anthony’s conversation earlier this week. So I repeat my earlier instruction, I want to know who you are. And I also want to know why Anthony looks like that,” Loki nodded to the bed.

Jarvis was silent for a moment, before he lowered his head in defeat. “I told him not to do that,” he whispered, sliding to the carpet and leaning back against the windowed wall. “Altering your memory weakened him too much and he’s been like this ever since,” he added, nodding to the bed.

Loki raised an eyebrow at the other’s words. “And you are…?” he prompted softly. His eyes widened as Jarvis muttered his name. “The computer?” he questioned.

A nod of the head was all he received and his eyes narrowed. “Well, that makes sense, but you still haven’t explained why you both look like you’re not of this world.”

“Because we’re not,” Jarvis informed him. He knew that Tony would kill him for revealing the truth about who they were, but there was every possibility that the other man wouldn’t wake up and Jarvis didn’t want Tony to die without anyone knowing who he really was. “I’m sure you heard legends of Atlantis as a child.”

The wide eyed look of surprise he received in response was almost comical and Jarvis had to bite down the smile that was threatening to spread across his face. Loki looked like an adult who’d just been told that Santa Claus was real after all. “Of course,” the god whispered, his eyes running over every inch of Jarvis’ skin that he could see. 

Jarvis knew exactly what Loki was looking at. All the ancient texts had described their home realm as being filled with creatures of exquisite majesty and beauty; all of whom had intricate details etched onto their skin. Each design was unique to the individual and Jarvis’ own were comprised of straight lines and corners, interweaving to form a single pattern that covered every inch of his skin.

“We were told that Atlantis was destroyed,” Loki stated.

“It was,” Jarvis agreed softly. “Only a handful survived and fled to other realms.” He didn’t go into detail about how he and Tony had arrived on Earth and watched as the night sky burnt as bright as day; a phenomenon that hadn’t happened since that night during the third century and many had called an act of god. 

Loki was silent as his green eyes turned to where Tony was lying on the bed, unaware of the conversation that was going on around him. “Crafting a history as complex as Anthony’s must have taken a considerable amount of magic and skill.”

Jarvis nodded slowly. “That was all Tony’s power,” he said, unable to stop the fond smile. “My skills lie with illusion and misdirection; there was only so much I was able to assist with.”

“All that power and he was unable to heal himself of a simple case of poisoning,” the god mused, running his fingers across the seam of his trousers as he spoke. The surprised look on Jarvis’ face made him chuckle, “While I am not as powerful as Anthony, I am able to run a simple diagnostics spell and talk at the same time.”

Jarvis opened his mouth to speak, before hesitating as he considered how much he wanted to admit to the man who had tried to destroy the city in the not-so distant past. A quick look at Tony told him that it would be worth the reprimand if Loki was able to help, which a small voice in the back of his head was telling him was a possibility.

“The new element he created to power the arc reactor is fighting against the magic inside of Tony,” Jarvis explained. “He’s dying.”

An alarmed look flittered across Loki’s face, before it was quickly replaced by a look of mild confusion. “Why not remove the device and use magic to fix him?” he questioned. “If Anthony is as powerful as the stories of Atlantis claim, healing should be simple for him.”

Jarvis sighed heavily and leant his head back against the window. Loki was correct in his assumption that Tony was powerful enough to heal but, as always, things weren’t quite as simple as that. “Healing powers were actually very rare in Atlantis,” he explained quietly. “Tony is powerful enough to heal, but any injuries he sustains himself do not heal fully, no matter how many spells he tries. That’s why he still needs the arc reactor; even with magic, his heart is still too badly damaged from the blast for him to survive without it.” Jarvis paused and drew in a deep breath, before adding, “The poison is just too much for his body to cope with.”

They were silent as Loki took in what he had just been told and Jarvis wondered if he had done the right thing by admitting how vulnerable his employee was. 

“Would you consider letting me replace the element?” Loki asked, finally breaking the silence of the room. Jarvis looked up at him questioningly and he explained, “While I don’t have enough power to heal his heart completely, I believe my magic would be sufficient enough to power the arc-reactor to ensure Anthony’s heart remains intact.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Jarvis whispered, trying to ignore the part of him that was telling him to step questioning and just accept the offer; it was what he had been hoping would happen, after all. “Tony did try to kill you.”

Loki folded his hands in his lap and stared at them silently for a long moment, before he nodded his head. “That is true,” he replied, his voice barely louder than Jarvis’. “But it was obvious that he didn’t truly want to, which is more than I can say for myself. And even that’s not taking into account what he is…” His eyes travelled over to where Tony was lying unconscious on the bed. “Where I’m from, when the eldest being in the universe needs your help, you had better give it.” The tone of his voice made Jarvis wonder how many times he had been instructed on such etiquette as a child.

“So you are only willing to help him out of some kind of ingrained loyalty,” Jarvis surmised.

Loki raised an eyebrow as he spoke, “Loyalty is not something I give freely, Jarvis. Stark – Anthony,” he corrected himself with a sigh not dissimilar to that of a long suffering man, “intrigues me. Even before I was informed of his true origins, I knew there was something different about him. He is not like other Midgardians. I…” He hesitated, seemingly unsure for what Jarvis presumed was likely the first time in centuries, “I was looking forward to getting to know him better. I cannot do that if I allow him to die.”

His words helped to convince Jarvis that Loki helping Tony was worth the risk, and made something inside of him stir with jealousy. “You feel for him,” the golden-skinned man murmured.

A corner of Loki’s mouth twitched in an almost smile at his words and he nodded his head slowly. “I’m afraid that’s true,” he replied honestly. “I’m not sure how, or when it happened, but somehow Anthony Stark has managed to get inside me and I can’t rid myself of him.” He cracked a wry smile and looked at Jarvis with a knowing expression that the sandy-haired man didn’t like at all. “I fear I feel for him in the same manner you do,” he added, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Jarvis shifted uncomfortably where he was still sitting on the floor and he scowled when he felt the heat of a blush spread across his cheeks. He had managed to keep his attraction hidden from Tony for centuries; to know that Loki had known of his existence for less than twenty four hours and had worked out the truth could prove to be a huge problem. “I…” Jarvis began, although he had no idea what he could possibly say in his defence.

Loki lifted a long fingered hand, cutting of the other man’s attempts at an excuse and grinned widely at him; an honest and genuine smile that actually took Jarvis’ breath away. “I do not think Anthony is aware of your feelings,” Loki assured him with something akin to pity in his voice. “Perhaps, when he is awake and feeling better we can come to some kind of… arrangement?” he suggested. 

Jarvis’ chest tightened at his words and his breath caught in his throat. He hardly dared to believe that what Loki was suggesting could actually happen. “But we can’t have that discussion if Anthony dies,” the god continued. He shifted, leaning forward in his seat and staring at Jarvis intently. “So, will you let me help him?” he questioned softly, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he waited for an answer.

Now there was no hesitation when Jarvis nodded his head. “Excellent,” Loki breathed, another grin spreading across his handsome face. He slid forward and got to his feet, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over the back of the seat.

Jarvis, following his example, got to his feet and crossed so he was standing beside Loki. “What do you need me to do?” he asked nervously. It had been a long time since he had been around anyone doing magic to the kind of extent required to save Tony’s life and he felt like a small child who was learning how to control his powers all over again.

An affectionate smile crossed Loki’s face when he saw the worry shining in Jarvis’ eyes. “Make sure no-one disturbs us,” he instructed, placing a comforting hand on the other man’s arm. “I don’t know how long this will take.”

Jarvis threw a look over his shoulder at the pale form of his employer – his best friend – and nodded his head, swallowing thickly around the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Silently, he headed towards the door. He threw one last look over his shoulder at Tony, before slipping out of the room; he knew that he was taking a big leap of faith to leave Tony in the hands of someone who hadn’t denied wanting to kill him in the past. But he also knew that there was no way he could keep his mind focused on keeping away intruders if he was watching Loki.

Loki waited until the door closed behind Jarvis, before turning slowly to face the bed Tony was lying in the centre of. He looked so small and fragile, lying against the black sheets that it was almost hard for Loki to forget what he really was. He knew that, once Tony was well enough, they would need to have a long talk about what Loki now knew and how it impacted them, but for now there were more pressing things he had to worry about.

Silently, he moved across the room and knelt on the bed beside Tony. He reached out a hand and pressed the back to the other man’s unshaven cheek, wincing at the temperature; Tony literally felt as cold as death. In fact, if it wasn’t for the slight rise and fall of his chest, Loki would doubt there was still life in the body before him.

Focusing on the task at hand, Loki reached out and placed his hand over the arc reactor. With a deep breath he turned the disc and removed it from Tony’s chest. He winced at the sight of the rotted and decaying element that had been keeping Tony alive and killing him at the same time. The element was too warm for him to touch and he winced at the heat he could feel emanating from the device. He knew that he needed to remove it as quickly as possible, but there was no way he could do so in his current form without burning himself; then he would waste valuable time and energy healing himself when he could – should – be helping Tony.

Loki sighed heavily, knowing that there was only one thing he could do to help Tony. Two seconds later, when he removed the element, his fingers were blue and the skin was thicker than it had been as an Asgardian. Even in his true form, the heat was excruciatingly painful. With a pained groan, Loki threw the element onto the bedside table, not caring that it burnt through the wood as though it were butter; Tony could easily replace it if he wished.

Beside him, Tony’s breathing was steadily growing shallower and Loki knew that he needed to hurry up, or else he risked the shrapnel embedding itself completely into Tony’s heart. He closed his eyes and focused on producing a ball of energy strong enough to keep the oldest being in the universe alive.

When he opened his eyes, the light coming from his hand was exactly the same colour as the light he had seen shining from the centre of Tony’s chest. With more trepidation than he could remember feeling for a long time, he carefully transferred the newly created magic from the palm of his hand to the waiting electromagnet.

As he placed the cover back on, he recalled Jarvis’ earlier words and smiled to himself. Clearly his magic was of a different calibre to the older beings’; the fact that Tony’s chest hadn’t exploded immediately was a testament to that.

He allowed himself a small smile and leant forward, pressing a chaste kiss on the unconscious man’s forehead. “Hurry up and return to us, Anthony,” he whispered against the skin that was slowly warming up. “We have much to talk about.”

~

Tony stepped out onto the balcony, squinting against the bright sunlight that assaulted his eyes. “Urgh,” he groaned, tipping his head forward and allowing his sunglasses to fall from his head to cover his eyes.

Further down the balcony, Loki chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve been inside too long,” he commented in amusement. A grin spread over Tony’s face as he grew closer to the god; it felt good to be able to move around with being in constant pain. “I feel as though I should kneel,” Loki added when Tony was closer.

The sparkle that had been missing out of the other man’s brown eyes was back as he slid into the wicker chair beside Loki. “Please don’t,” he requested, grimacing a little. Loki snorted with laughter and they fell into silence for a while until Tony spoke again, “I take it Jarvis told you who I really am.”

“Not quite,” Loki answered softly, running the tips of his fingers around the rim of the glass he was holding in his hand. “He told me you were from Atlantis; I deduced who you really were from the colour of your skin.” He reached a hand out, running his fingers down the engineer’s arm; grinning widely when Tony’s glamour flickered enough at the touch that his real-self shone through. “In all the legends about your kind, there was only one bloodline with silver-white skin. I’m afraid that’s what gave you away, your majesty,” he added, inclining his head out of genuine respect.

Tony scowled at his words. “Don’t start that,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Atlantis is gone, and with it so is the royal family. I’m not a prince here.”

Loki nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right. As the only surviving royal, you’re the king now.” The glare Tony shot in his direction made him chuckle and he held his hand up in surrender. “Apologies,” he said, not looking nor sounding very apologetic. He continued smirking at the brown eyed man until Tony rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the exasperation in his voice. 

Loki nodded his head, a proud grin on his face as he took a sip of his orange juice. “I do have a question I’d like to ask, though,” he admitted, reaching over and placing the glass on the small table that sat in between his and Tony’s chairs.

Tony raised an eyebrow at his words and leant back, folding his arms across his chest as he studied the god. “I’m not sure whether I should be scared or not,” he confessed, waiting for Loki to ask what he wanted to know; he knew that the other man wasn’t waiting for permission from Tony.

“I tried to ask Jarvis while you were healing,” Loki began, running the tips of his fingers over the wicker of the chair arm. “He refused to fully explain how he came to be here with you.”

A heavy sigh escaped Tony’s lips at Loki’s words. He didn’t reply immediately; instead, he turned his head and looked through the glass wall into the condo where Jarvis was busy working away at a computer Tony couldn’t see the screen for, completely unaware that he was being studied by his employer. “I’m not sure I should say anything,” he whispered, turning his attention back to Loki. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s funny,” Loki mused sarcastically. “That’s exactly what he said when I asked. He informed me that you saved his life, but refused to go into detail. He told me to ask you if I wanted to know more; which I do.”

Tony sighed heavily and closed his eyes, trying to decide what to do. Part of him wanted to tell Loki to mind his own business, but the rest of him knew that the god of mischief wouldn’t let the subject drop until he had found out what he wanted to know.

“Well, he was right that I saved his life,” he eventually spoke. “But that makes what I did sound a lot more heroic than what actually happened.” Loki raised an eyebrow at his words, but didn’t comment as he waited for Tony to continue; he had the sneaky feeling that if he interrupted at that point, Tony would likely stop talking and he it would be unlikely he’d get the answers he was looking for. 

“Jarvis is an illusionist,” Tony explained, shifting his eyes away from Loki and staring at nothing in particular as he became lost in a memory of long ago. “His strength lies with misdirection and pretence; but he’s also an excellent strategist. The… His previous employer quickly realised how valuable an asset he was and was more than willing to push Jarvis’ limits, both physically and magically. He worked him so hard it nearly killed him; which, as you know isn’t an easy task for our kind.”

Loki bit back a chuckle at the prince’s words, but he didn’t speak as he waited for Tony to continue. It was obvious that there was more to what Tony was saying, but he couldn’t put his finger on what the other man was trying to avoid confessing. “Jarvis’ contract was a magical one,” Tony said. “Due to the nature of the contract, he could only be freed when his master,” Tony winced at the word, “died. Control of him would then pass to the person who had slain the other.”

The pieces of the puzzle started to fit together and Loki realised exactly why Jarvis had stuck with Tony for so long; intimate feelings for him notwithstanding. “You freed him,” he stated. “And when you killed his previous master, he became under your employ.” Tony nodded his head slowly. “Well, that certainly explains why Jarvis puts up with so much from you, but I fail to see why you think that what you did is such a terrible act,” he confessed, a frown creasing his forehead. He had killed many people – only some of which he wasn’t proud about – and none of their deaths had been for something as noble as saving another person’s life.

A heavy sigh shuddered through Tony’s body in response to Loki’s words and he leant his head back, closing his eyes as he fought against the memories of the past that were now so much stronger than they had been in the past. “That one act of killing Jarvis’ previous master was what started the end of Atlantis,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke. “Once the king was dead, a revolution started and the royal family’s supporters were grossly out numbered. Less than a year later, the world burnt and with it, so did a large number of my people.”

Loki felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him at Tony’s words. Knowing that the other man had killed a person was one thing; to know who he had actually killed was something completely different. “But if the king was dead and you killed him…”

Tony snorted and nodded his head. “It means that I killed my own father,” he finished for the god. “Now do you see why I don’t like being referred to as royalty?” he snapped without thinking. He winced at the tone he heard coming from his mouth and threw Loki an apologetic smile. “Jarvis likes talking about what happened even less than I do. We’ve managed to avoid mentioning it that much. Until you came around, that is,” he added, managing to crack a grin at Loki.

His smile widened when Loki reached out, running his fingers down Tony’s arm, making his glamour flicker again. “That’s the second time you’ve managed to do that,” he commented, eyeing his silver-white skin with a bemused look. “Other than Jarvis, you’re the only person in this realm who’s seen what I really look like.”

Loki didn’t answer as he continued moving his hand up Tony’s arm, not stopping until he reached his shoulder. “What are we going to do now?” he whispered, running the tips of his fingers along the seam of the other man’s t-shirt. 

“Well, you know who I am now,” Tony reminded the god. “Who I really am, and you did save my life. I owe you.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I refuse to be in your debt, Anthony,” he muttered, trying to ignore the heat he felt at the hint of an unspoken promise he could hear in Tony’s words.

A smile spread across Tony’s face and he reached out, patting the god of mischief on the thigh. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can come up with an excellent payment plan.”

The End


End file.
